Upside Down
by Emily Is Me
Summary: Emma Wilson had always believed she was nothing special. She was a petite child, with grey eyes and blonde hair. Nothing about her outward appearance would even hint at being extraordinary, yet extraordinary was the only way to describe her. Emma was a witch, you see, and her whole world was about to be turned upside down. Based off of book 1, rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. A Prologue of Sorts

_Hey it's me again :)_

_I posted this before but it got deleted for no reason, so I'm trying again._

_For those of you who read my other story,_ Everything Will be Alright,_ I promise that this one will be more successful, especially in regards to updates, plot, and overall writing quality. This time I have taken extra care to figuring out the plot and fill in the holes before I started, and have written some of this story in advance. I have also taken a lot of time editing this, but I am aware that there are still things to be improved on and really appreciate any feedback, as long as its polite. This is my first OC story, and if my character comes off as a Mary Sue I would love to be told because I would like to fix it to the best of my ability. Thank you for giving this story a chance, and I hope you enjoy it. That being said - this is the prologue and is sadly short. Luckily the next chapter is about 2x longer. _

_See you soon (hopefully)_

_-emily _

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

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_Let hope arise _

_And make_

_The darkness hide_

_- God's not dead_

_The Newsboys_

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It was a dark and treacherous night. The normally star-studded sky was covered in a layer foreboding storm clouds that blocked out any rays of sunlight. Strong winds howled fiercely as waves of rain poured down onto the town. This was the kind of night that reminds you of a horror movie you had watched the week before. It was also the kind of night that makes you want to curl up with three blankets and watch a happy musical that you would sing along to, no matter how bad your voice may sound. This night was a time when no one without a death wish would dare to go outside, which was why the streets lay deserted, without a single creature to be seen. Though if there was anyone outside, it would be a challenge to spot them, as the city had been forced into darkness by a power outage.

However, one house seemed unaffected by the storm. This house was a small cottage, with bright light pouring out of the windows. If you stood close enough, you could hear the sound of exuberant laughter coming from inside. The neighbors stared at it through their windows, filled with jealousy. Why couldn't their houses be blessed with electricity on such a morbid night? They assumed the occupants of the house must have installed a generator, after all, how else could they be using electricity?

Across from the cottage, a strange man suddenly appeared on the sidewalk, as if by magic. He seemed to have simply materialized out of thin air, though such a feat would have normally been deemed impossible. Nothing like this man had ever been seen in the area. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a flowing purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles. His eyes gave off the impression that they held all the knowledge that this world had to offer. Beneath these eyes, his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. Oddly enough, the pelting rain didn't seem to bother him, nor did the fierce sting of the biting wind. His robes didn't even look the slightest bit wet! It was almost as if he hadn't even noticed the raging storm. Dumbledore's twinkling eyes scanned the street, before promptly stopping at the aforementioned cottage. A grin lit up his face as he crossed the road, strolled confidently up the path to the house, and stepped up to the door. He knocked, and was greeted by a young woman who immediately ushered him into the houses and out of the rain. She had a large, warm smile on and her long, flaming red hair was pulled back into a messy braid. Her emerald green eyes quickly scanned Dumbledore's face, making sure he hadn't been harmed by the storm.

"Professor Dumbledore!" the woman greeted happily. "We thought you were coming Thursday? Oh, no matter, I'm sure Delilah will let you visit her now since you're here."

"Call me Albus, Lily, you earned that right the moment you graduated," the old man responded, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He gave a light laugh before continuing.

"I apologize for the late hour, but I have been informed that the child is, rather different," Dumbledore continued, phrasing it as more of a question rather than a statement, his curiosity evident on his features.

"Why yes, her accidental magic is much stronger and precise than I have ever seen. It's starting far too early to be natural." Lily explained, as she began to lead him through the entranceway, and up the stairs.

"Yes, very unusual. However I have come to believe that there may be a . . . well, surprising answer to this."

Seeing the look of worrying at had appeared on Lily's face as he spoke, he hurriedly tried to reassure her.

"It is a good thing, marvelous, really. Think of it as more of a gift, a special talent."

They had reached the top of the stairs, and veered off to the right, going down the hallway. Passing a few doors they finally came to a stop in front of a yellow one. Upon entering the room, Dumbledore's attention was immediately brought to the crib, and the young man standing next to it. His name was Sirius Black. Sirius was a tall, handsome young man, with black hair that reached just above his shoulders and stormy grey eyes that were filled with mischief. A jovial smile had lit up his face as he gazed upon the baby girl who lay fast asleep in her crib. Next to him stood his wife, Delilah. She was slim and tall, though shorter than her husband. Her face was framed by her long blonde hair, which looked beautiful when combined with her electric blue eyes and pale yet unblemished skin.

"Albus, you made it," Sirius exclaimed, as he and Delilah walked over to greet Dumbledore.

"Yes, though the weather was not very helpful," he answered with a light chuckle. "Tell me, how is the child?"

"She's an absolute angel, aside from all the accidental magic of course." Delilah answered, her eyes portraying a hint of amusement.

"Ah, yes. I believe I have found an explanation for that, though it will take some explaining. But first, just out of curiosity, what have you named the girl?"

This time it was Sirius who responded.

"Emma, sir. Emma Marie Black."

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_thanks for reading!_


	2. And So It Goes

_hey,_

_wow I actually updated within the timeframe I gave myself! _

_so this is the first real chapter, and it starts right before Hogwarts comes into the picture_

_As always, please review, I was dissapointed no one reveiwed on the prologue. I love critics and would love feedback (especially if I spelled something wrong, those mistakes are always embarrasing. I found so many when I first edited this). On that note - would anyone like to be a Beta for this story?_

_Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited! You guys keep me writing, as cliche as it sounds :)_

_enjoy your lives,_

_emily_

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

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_All I Knew, _

_This Morning When I Woke,_

_Is I Know Something Now,_

_Know Something Now,_

_I Didn't before._

_- Taylor Swift Ft. Ed Sheeran_

_Everything Has Changed_

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Ms. Smith was _not_ a kind lady. She was the type of woman who would scowl at all the strangers in the grocery store, and walk by the homeless children on the streets without even a second glance. Ms. Smith never went to church or participated in volunteer day, and her favorite hobby was punishing children. She had a sadistic sense of humor, that was brought about through the misfortune of others. As you can obviously tell by now, Ms. Caroline Jane Smith was a mean lady.

Living up to the stereotypical image of cynical old ladies, she completely and utterly despised anything that fell under the categories of new, modern, or untraditional. However, of all the untraditional things to hate, she believed that abnormal things were the worst. Unfortunately for her, abnormal was the first word that popped into her mind as another person entered the facility.

This lady swept in the room with an air of importance surrounding her, her emerald cloak swishing around her feet as she strode up towards the front desk. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and underneath was the stern face of someone you did not want to cross. Mrs. Smith may not have been a very wise lady, but even she acknowledged the fact that she must step carefully around such an imposing figure.

"Hello, how may I help you?" She greeted her cautiously, her eyes narrowing with disdain at the billowing robes worn by the woman.

'Abnormal,' she thought, cringing inwardly.

The mysterious woman gazed down through the square shaped glasses resting on her nose.

"Good morning," she returned. "I'm Minerva McGonagall, and I booked an appointment with Ms. Smith."

"That would be me, and what is the nature of your visit?"

"I am here representing a boarding school known as Hogwarts. I would like to speak to you regarding the opening we have reserved for Miss Emma Wilson."

Mrs. Smith was confused. The orphanage children never filled out applications for schools, and even if they had, no school would be accepting of a child of Emma Wilson's nature. Trouble had followed that child everywhere she walked. Something was definitely wrong here, and Ms. Wilson did not like it.

"Very well, we can discuss this in my office," and she led Minerva into the back room, after fiercely glaring at the curios boy poking his head into the front hall.

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Emma Wilson peered out the window, eyeing the spot where the woman had been. She swore that the lady had just appeared there out of thin air, like magic, though she dismissed the thought quickly. She must have just not been paying attention, or needed glasses (she severely hoped not, they would be such an inconvenience). Deciding to ponder over this idea later, she pushed the blonde wisps of hair that had fallen from her long braid back behind her ear, and returned her gaze to the most recent page in her sketchbook.

She was attempting to draw a cartoon version of herself, but something seemed off about the face. Shrugging it off, she added a few more details to her stormy grey eyes, before continuing with the rest of her body. She had a very thin figure, and was on the short side, but only slightly. Emma finished off the body and examined the portrait again. Something was still wrong!

"Ugh, I give up!" She exclaimed, slamming the old sketchbook back onto her desk in exasperation. Behind her came the heavy thumping of a book, as it fell off her dresser. She brushed it off, things like this always happened around her. Whenever she was feeling a really strong emotion, something would go wrong. It was at this moment in time that the sound of voices and footsteps traveling up the stairs reached Emma ears.

Ms. Smith's voice soon added to the noise, causing Emma to groan inwardly. It was no secret that the demon lady in charge of St. Claire's orphanage hated Emma. Ever since she showed up on the doorstep almost ten years ago Ms. Smith had made her opinion crystal clear. It wasn't Emma's fault though; Ms. Smith loathed anything unusual, yet unusual seemed to be the young girls most prominent characteristic. She had a bad history; abnormal circumstances were attracted to Emma like sharks to blood.

She was once again broken out of her reverie as the voices drew closer to her bedroom, well - if you could call it a room. It was a small and cramped, closed-off section of the attic. All the 'trouble-making' kids were sent to rooms up here, in order to keep them from 'influencing the other children'. Emma's room was equipped with a few shabby pieces of furniture; such as a cot, dresser, bedside table and chair, with a minuscule rug that barely covered the floor and was terribly frayed at the edges. The only thing Emma enjoyed about her corner of the attic was the big window that over looked the city. She had rearranged her room so that her table and chair sat facing the great view out the window, and she would often sit there and try to draw the magnificent scene. Sometimes she would climb outside it using the chair and sit out on a tiny patch of the roof.

The voices had now reached her door, and Emma's face fell once again.

"Please let it not be another social worker!" She prayed in a whisper to herself. She had a tendency to go through social workers like teenagers went through moods. They never stayed, nobody ever stayed. The only constant Emma had in her life was Addy, a quiet, withdrawn girl at the orphanage who was the same age as Emma.

A hand knocked sharply against the wood three times, and with great hesitancy, Emma walked to the door and opened it. She made sure to slip the fallen book under her bed before Ms. Smith would see it. Ms. Smith entered first, glancing at the dusty room with superiority in her eyes. After her, the mysterious lady that Emily had spotted outside swept into the room, and gently closed the door behind her.

"Miss. Wilson, this is Minerva McGonagall, and she is a professor at Howard's boarding school."

"Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall corrected, causing Ms. Smith's face to redden in abashment. She chose that time to make her leave, quickly exiting the room and leaving the young girl alone with the strict looking professor.

For a moment, neither spoke and all was silent. McGonagall was first to break the quiet.

"Do you believe in magic, Emma?"

The completely random question had taken her by surprise, stunning her for a moment until she remembered how to speak.

"Er - well, not really, no" she stuttered.

McGonagall seemed unfazed by her admission.

"And what if I could convince you otherwise?"

"What?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing, it didn't make sense. There must be something wrong with my ears, she thought. Or maybe the lady was simply insane? Yes, Emma decided in her head, Minerva McGonagall must be incredibly loony, which provided an explanation for the rather interesting choice in clothing.

However, in the time it took Emma to reach this conclusion, McGonagall had pulled out a wooden stick from her robes, and was now pointing it at the pencil that had been left on the table. Sharply flicking the stick at the pencil, it immediately became a _turtle_.

"T-that's not possible." She stated, dumbstruck and in awe of the feat that had been demonstrated in front of her very own eyes.

"For non-magic folk, or muggles as we call them, it is very impossible. However, for witches such as you and me it is highly possible with a certain amount of practice."

Emma's eyes, which had been quite wide before, were now open even bigger and her mouth was hanging in an o-shape.

"So I'm a w-witch?" She was very uncertain, believing this to be a prank set by one of the meaner orphans, like Molly or Thomas. "Not to sound rude, but I just can't believe I can do magic like that."

Professor McGonagall just gave a minuscule smile, saying, "have you ever made anything strange happen, something out of the ordinary or _magical_?"

Emma's immediate answer would have been a _no_, but then she began to think and realized that the strange occurrences that continuously happened around her might have actually happened because of her. Like when Molly's hair started to fall out. It began when her and some of the older orphans were teasing an 8-year old Emma at dinner. Molly had tauntingly called Emma an 'unwanted nobody'. Thats when a clump of her hair plopped down into her bowl of soup. Or when Jenna had caught 6 different butterfly's and was holding them captive in a small container. While all the other girls had surrounded them, Emma just felt bad for the innocent creatures, and seconds after this, the box broke and all the butterfly's had flown to freedom. Jenna had been so upset about that. There was another incident the day Emma had first been moved to the attic rooms. She was absolutely terrified when she discovered there were mice in the attic, and had barely been able to fall asleep the first night. The next day, the bottom floors of the orphanage were infested with mice, yet not a single one was discovered in the attic.

It was these memories, that changed Emma's original answer of _no_, into a hopeful, "_yes_".

The lady had once again smiled lightly at this answer and proceeded to pull out a letter from the pockets of her robe. "This is your acceptance letter to Hogwarts, along with a supply list. If you would like to accept it, there is a spot for you at Hogwarts, a school of witchcraft and wizardry.

She looked down at the envelope in her hands, excitement coursing through her at the thought of what lay inside. On the outside, written in emerald-green ink, it said;

Miss. Emma Wilson

Attic of St. Claire's Orphanage

17 Solace Road

London

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and there was no stamp. Carefully turning the letter over in her hands, Emma saw a purple wax seal bearing an intricate coat of arms. It was a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle all surrounding a large letter H. Emma slowly opened the envelope, pulled out the letter, and began to read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Miss. Wilson,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Await your owl?" She wondered aloud, while other countless questions soared through her mind.

"In the magic world, wizards send letters through owl post instead of the mail." McGonagall explained. Looking into Emma's eyes, she continued speaking. "Would you like to attend Hogwarts and learn about the wizarding world?"

Emma nodded eagerly in response.

'Anything to get out of this dump' she thought to herself.

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_Thanks for reading :)_


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